


knives out, baby

by mytholora



Series: Doropetra Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Day 4: Mafia AU, F/F, Guns, Knives, Rival Mafia Families, Sexual Tension, Slight Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytholora/pseuds/mytholora
Summary: Guns and knifes may break her bones but constant sexual tension with a soldier from a rival mafia family will kill her.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Series: Doropetra Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682581
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	knives out, baby

Dorothea was a simple girl. She liked money. She liked getting what she wanted. Singing to herself in the shower, spending time with her friends. She liked all the things that normal girls liked.

Like killing men. Oh, she loved killing men. There were so many to pick from, all so generously giving her reasons to snuff out their life the moment they opened their mouths. It was a bad habit and one that she had gotten a stern talking-to more than once but she couldn’t help it.

She’d usually spare women and children (she wasn’t an _animal_ ), but sometimes the boss wasn’t feeling so merciful and they had to go as well.

She felt bad, but orders were orders. She always made sure it was painless and quick, saying a quick prayer for them and leaving the mess for the cleanup crew to make quick work of.

And like all normal girls, she had things she hated. She hated Monday mornings and elitist, arrogant pricks. She hated drugs, though she couldn’t avoid dealing with them once in a while in her line of work.

She hated when she walked in on the _caporegime’s_ meetings with their associates and felt their slimy gazes trail up her body (He forbade her to bring any weapons into his office after the first man who dared grab her ass ended up a bloody mess on his carpet flooring and it took two weeks to get rid of the large stain).

Last but not least, she hated it when her plans went awry.

It a simple mission with a simple objective. Warehouse near the docks. Just deliver the goods to the client. She’d wanted to go alone but the boss wouldn’t budge on at least two escorts to follow her just in case.

_“I’ll be fine, Hubie.” Hubert frowned at the nickname like it offended him, but Dorothea knew he secretly liked it, the old softie. “Simple meet-up: I’ll pass it and leave. Done in a snap.”_

_“I know. However, this time I have gotten reports of Brigidia making movements.” Dorothea ignored the way her heart skipped a beat. “We don’t know what they’re planning but best to err on the side of caution. Take Caspar and Ferdinand with you.”_

_“Ferdie? But he’s…” Hubert’s glare silenced her complaints. “Can I at least tape his mouth shut?” Hubert glared harder._

_“Ugh, fine. But I’m not talking to him.”_

“A girl like you shouldn’t really be in this line of work, Dorothea. It is dangerous and unbecoming of a lady of such elegance.”

Dorothea suddenly didn’t really mind if _Brigidia_ attacked them right then and there. Maybe then she’d have a good enough cover for breaking his bone. Or two. Maybe three.

Ferdinand was a very good friend and an excellent fellow soldier but if she had to sit there and hear another word about how _women shouldn't go around shooting people in the head Dorothea, it is not appropriate behaviour_ , she would knock his teeth out, even if that meant getting a time-out from Hubert.

“Come on Ferdinand, she can beat ass better than anyone here!” To Dorothea’s relief, Caspar cut in, shuffling excitedly next to them and clapping the orange-haired man on the back.

“Wha- I am not saying she is not talented or deadly, nothing of the sort! I am simply stating facts that perhaps it is safer for her to not be on the front lines all the time!”

Caspar frowned, “That’s stupid,” Ferdinand gasped. “She’s strong, why wouldn’t she be out here with us?”

“Caspar, you are my favourite person ever, you know that?” Caspar grinned, rubbing his nose proudly. Ferdinand grumbled and pushed his friend’s face away with his palm, provoking Caspar to push back, which started up another childish squabble between them.

Dorothea rolled her eyes at the antics of her friends and focused on the large warehouse they were steadily approaching.

“All right boys, quit it. We’re here.”

As soon as they stepped out of their car, Dorothea wrinkled her nose. The air was dull and unpleasant, noisy with the cries of seagulls circling overhead. the smell of salty air filled her lungs in a deep breath. She nodded at their driver, a fellow soldier whose name she couldn’t remember and signaled for him to hide the car away.

“Got the package?” Caspar asked, adjusting his cufflinks. Ferdinand smoothed back his hair, which Dorothea noted was growing longer by the day. It now reached his shoulders and he had it slicked back and tied into a simple ponytail. They were both dressed in matching casual suits, looking sharp and professional. She had to admit, despite their shortcomings, both of them could clean up nicely when they needed to.

“Come on, let’s get this done so I can get outta this thing, geez. It’s making me queasy.” Caspar stormed toward the warehouse, leaving Ferdinand scrambling behind him.

Dorothea sighed as she quickly gave herself a once-over in her compact mirror. Her long black designer cocktail dress revealed a healthy amount of thigh via the slit on the right. Her makeup was immaculate as always, and her dark red lipstick looked like a delicious poison. She hummed, content, and made her way in.

The place was empty and starting to decay. Mold was growing in between the cracks of the building and several windows were smashed in, glass littering the floor beneath it. There was colourful graffiti scrawled on the walls. Dorothea paid no attention to any of that.

The only things she could see was the balding, round man in a chair, bound and gagged, eyes wide in terror. The unconscious bodies, groaning in pain at his feet.

And the trio waiting in front of them, led by the face she saw in her dreams every night, smiling at her. In a split second, Ferdinand and Caspar had their custom Colt M1911A1 out and aimed.

“Surprise,” Petra Macneary gave a little wave of her fingers. “What’s with the angry face? Thought you’d be happier to see me, Arnault.”

“Macneary.” Dorothea said through gritted teeth. “And here I’d thought you dead. Pity.”

Petra was dressed in a black, silk button-down shirt, tucked into a pair of light grey form-fitting pants. Her sleeves were rolled up to show off the dark purple tattoos inked on her forearms. Not that Dorothea noticed or cared. She shrugged, casually looping an arm around their client, whose muffled yells only grew in response.

“Lucky for you, I’m not that easy to kill.”

“Unfortunately.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Dorothea could see Ferdinand and Caspar ready to act. She quickly gave them a subtle gesture for them to stop. The atmosphere was tense on their end, but Petra was cool. Relaxed. _Nothing gets under her skin. Ugh._

“Don't you have other people to go be a nuisance to?”

“Yeah, but you’re my favourite. So when I heard you’d be stopping by, I couldn’t resist,” Petra laughed, as if there was an inside joke that only she understood. “And of course, how could I forget! Ferdinand and Caspar! My two favourite boys.”

“I thought I was one of your favourite boys,” A lazy voice drawled out next to her, long, green hair tucked behind ears. He was wearing his usual black silk gloves and also dressed in a similar attire to Petra’s. “Hey, Caspar.”

“Sup, Lin!” Caspar grinned widely, gun still pointed and aimed at the taller man. “We still on for Taste Test Thursday? I got these new wasabi chips and soda! Totally gonna blow your mind.”

Linhardt sighed and rolled his neck. “As long as you don’t expect me to eat them.”

“Aw, but that’s the best part! The packaging said it keeps you healthy, like veggies!”

“I uh- I don’t think? That’s how chips work?” The smaller girl on Petra’s right squeaked. “I don’t think they’re supposed to be a substitute for vegetables in… any form.”

“No way! But it’s it’s all I’ve been eating for the past 2 weeks!” Caspar protested. “So that’s why I’ve been puking like crazy.”

“How are you not dead yet.” Linhardt said.

“Bernadetta’s right, Caspar. Chips are in no way meant to be consumed like vegetables,” Ferdinand spoke up, eyes full of concern. “Also I am taking you to a hospital immediately after this.”

“I can drive you there!” Bernadetta said. “I just got my driver’s license yesterday.”

“Congratulations, Bernadetta! And on your first try, no less.” Ferdinand smiled. A round of congratulations and sparse clapping showered the blushing girl. Petra looked at her proudly. The younger girl ducked her head shyly, the tips of her ears red.

“Now that we’re _done_ with our usual quota of banter,” Dorothea glared sharply at the two distracted men standing on either side of her before smiling sweetly. “and congratulations Bernie! Let’s get back to business. I’m not in the mood for blood today. Leave and maybe we won’t shoot you. Deal?”

“Uh, sounds good to me. Sounds great, actually. Not dying.”

“Seconded.”

Petra pouted, “That’s no fun. How about we play a game?” The client started struggling even more. “One-on-one knife fight? First blood.”

“Not it.”

“M-me neither!”

Caspar groaned, “I think I feel those chips coming up again.”

“I could not fight a woman. It would not be fair,” Ferdinand huffed.

“Good, because I would end you instantly for saying that,” Petra stepped forward, slipping her knife out of its case and twirling it in one hand. “Guess that just leaves you and me, D.”

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “Guess it does,” She pulled out a rather slim blade from her cleavage, to Ferdinand’s consternation and Caspar’s proud look as they lowered their weapons, and walked up to face the younger girl off. “And don’t call me that. Only my friends get to call me that.”

Ferdinand frowned. “Wait, you never let me call you that.”

They started circling each other, blades out, eyes sharp, postures casual and betraying nothing. Petra chuckled, her knife glinting in the light that poured through the broken windows, “I’d say we’re more than friends, wouldn’t you say? Or did you forget all about our little meet-up last month? And here I thought it was something special.”

Dorothea felt the blood rise to her cheeks before she could stop it. _Get it together, for God’s sake. She’s doing it on purpose._

“Here we go with the foreplay again,” Linhardt sighed and Petra turned around to glare at him. He booed like an audience member at an underground wrestling fight. “Give us something new!”

“Oh, I’ll give you something new.”

Dorothea took advantage of the distraction and lunged forward, knife barely missing Petra’s neck by a few inches as the girl instinctively dodged, countering with a turn and a flick of her wrist. Dorothea leaned back, letting the blade pass harmlessly in front of her and stepped away, allowing Petra to do the same. They continued circling each other, muscles tense and ready.

“Man, this is like that one episode of _Naruto_ with the _kunais_!”

“There are many episode of _Naruto_ with _kunais_ , Caspar.”

Circle. Lunge. Dodge. Lunge. Dodge. Close call. Repeat. It was a dance Dorothea had already memorised. All part of the game. A game with only two players. A game Dorothea had been playing since they met. One she could never win, whether she wanted to or not.

They clashed again and again, and Dorothea realised the duel was quickly becoming a battle of stamina, which was an area she begrudgingly admitted Petra had the upper hand in. Petra seemed to have been planning that all along, judging from the teasing grin on her lips. _Of course she would want to drag it out. She’s just playing me like a string. I have to end this now._

Petra had this way of getting under her skin no other person could. Her eyes lit up when they stared each other down. Their banter had Dorothea struggling to fight down a smile sometimes, despite herself.

Sometimes their skin would barely touch, and Dorothea would allow herself to remember just how warm Petra felt under her fingertips, when they were alone at night, how those arms would feel on her hips, how those hands would cup her face gently and press those full, intoxicating lips to her own.

Those thoughts occupied her mind more often than she’d would like to admit.

“Distracted already?” Petra taunted cheekily.

“You wish. Just thinking about the hot date I have tonight,” she taunted back, watching with glee as Petra frowned. “CEO. Rich Daddy’s boy, you know? Promised to take me on his yacht.”

“That is how people get murdered.”

“Or, you know. In duels like this. So I’ll just do us both a favour and end this quickly!”

Dorothea snarled and threw the blade straight at her head. Petra clearly wasn’t expecting it but crouched in reflex, turning to watch the weapon scrape across the floor. She swirled back around to voice her confusion but was unprepared for a high-heeled foot to kick at her hand. Her knife flew out of her grip and clattered to the ground. Her instincts kicked in as she tried to defend herself but suddenly, the world turned over itself.

Petra didn’t even have time to react as she was pinned under Dorothea, another slimmer blade pressed against her throat, nicking it lightly to draw a drop of blood.

“Cheater.” Petra murmured hoarsely.

“You never said only one blade.” Dorothea breathed from on top of her, thighs straddled over Petra’s hips. The hand not holding the blade had made quick work of Petra’s hands, pinning them above her head. They were both breathing heavily. Dorothea watched as Petra’s chest rose and fell, her face flushed red and her eyes half-lidded, watching her for her next move.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, a silent, simmering challenge between them. It was like Petra was waiting for her to make the first move. Her eyes were dilated. Dorothea watched as her tongue darted out to slowly lick her bottom lip, as if in anticipation. She didn’t dare look away.

“So what does the winner want?” Petra asked, the words leaving her lips in a whisper, soft and seductive.

Dorothea stared. Oh, there were so many answers she could think of for that question. But alas, there was a job to do, and Hubie wouldn’t be very happy if she was reported to be fraternising with the enemy during working hours.

“The winner wants you... to get out and leave her to do her job,” Petra sighed as Dorothea moved back to fully sit on her hips. “And get Caspar to the hospital, possibly.”

“ _Finally_ , I honestly thought you two were about to start making out.” Linhardt said, already untying the still-bound client from his ropes. It was only then that Dorothea remembered they weren’t alone. Bernadetta wouldn’t meet her eyes. There was a light blush on Ferdinand’s face and he coughed, composing himself. Caspar was leaning on him, groaning.

Dorothea shook her head and stood up, offering her hand to the still downed Petra. She grunted as Petra took her hand and pulled herself up. Her grip was warm and firm.

She watched as Petra jogged away to pick up her discarded blade and went to pick up Dorothea’s as well. Handing over the blade with a wink, Dorothea resisted the urge to roll her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile from blooming on her lips. She reached over to brush away the small droplet of blood leaking from the nick in the tattooed girl’s throat and looked up to find a faint shade of red on Petra’s face. Dorothea giggled.

“This is inexcusable! I will not stand for being treated this way!” The client had finally gotten freed of his constraints and was standing up in Linhardt’s face, cursing angrily. “I almost died! I will never be conducting business with you crime-ridden rats again, ever!”

“Sit down, baldie.” Bernadetta’s voice was sharp as she pushed him to sit in the chair again. Her face was stony and she had in one hand, her trusty Smith & Wesson Model 19. “One more word out that mouth and I’ll make sure you won’t walk for the rest of your miserable life.”

He immediately paled and searched the room with his eyes. Every single person was staring down at him with cold, inhumane eyes, hands resting on a weapon, ready to make good on the threat if he decided he didn’t value his life enough.

He had forgotten after being forced to watch the entire encounter; this was the mafia, and they wouldn't hesitate to end his life in an instant if they felt like it.

“Now, finish up business with the pretty lady and get the fuck out.”

**Author's Note:**

> it was supposed to be serious idk how it turned out to be so light-hearted :(


End file.
